


A Healing Touch

by LovelyLullaby



Category: Drifters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon-Typical Violence, DFAB reader, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Interrogation, Multi, Period-Typical Sexism, Reader-Insert, World War II, get over it, probably add more later, reader is a nurse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-04 00:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLullaby/pseuds/LovelyLullaby
Summary: You're a World War II nurse who works in Interrogations. But in the end, your trust in others gets the best of you and you end up getting sent to a fantasy world far beyond your comprehension. The last thing you expect is to meet a bunch of supposedly dead historical figures. But hey, may as well make the most of the situation.





	1. Chapter 1

        Most people, upon interrogation, would be prepared for just about anything. They would be tense and taut, just waiting for whatever new torture would be reigned upon them in the name of information gathering. There were so many different types. Some were prideful and angry, others were frightened and inexperienced, but nobody, absolutely nobody, just gave up information easily.

        So whenever they heard that door open, they would steel their resolves, probably think about their happiest memories and loved ones, sometimes open their mouths to curse at the interrogator who would walk through the door. But they always, no matter their age, rank, or personality, clam up when they saw you walk through the door.

        And you supposed you understood. The last thing anybody every expected to come through a door after a brutal interrogation was a woman wearing a pale blue dress, white apron with a big red cross on the front, and a shy smile on her face. They would always stare at you, awestruck and mixed between confusion, terror, and hope. Because none of them, not even one, had the sense to suspect you.

        Probably because you were a woman, but also because you were told you had innocent eyes and a trustworthy face. 

        It all went the same. You would walk in with your little first aid kit, click your tongue, and say in whatever their maiden language was, " _So brutal. They really shouldn't be so cruel. But, I suppose in times like this..._ " Then you would finish off with a heavy sigh.

        Reactions varied, but this particular victim proceeded to look awestruck by your very existence. A woman with an innocent face who spoke German and treated him with even the barest scraps of kindness? You may as well have been an angel to him. He couldn't have been much older than 18, with blond hair that probably once was slicked back, and darkened blue eyes. He may have been good looking, had his face not been beaten to hell in the hopes of gathering intel.

        Usually the young ones, like the man before you, were quick to spill information. But there were always a few who didn't. And that's where you came in.

        You set your first aid kit on the table and gave a sympathetic glance to the binds securing him to his chair. You opened the first aid kit and gathered up some materials, first starting with some alcohol and cotton to clean his wounds.

        " _This will probably hurt. I'm truly sorry,_ " you said. You dabbed his cheek with the cotton and he let out a hiss, but he didn't tell you to stop or get angry with you, so that was a good sign. " _Honestly, you're nothing more than a boy. They really should hold back._ "

        " _It would be an insult if they pitied me like that,_ " the man replied. His voice was hoarse and it was the first time he spoke to you. They always had this inherent trust in you and you didn't know why, but it was always helpful. Perhaps they saw parts of a mother in you, or a sister, or a lover, or a friend. But they always, without fail, separated you from their tormentors. Treated you as a tentative ally, or at least a neutral party. It made what you were doing just seem cruel.

        " _Perhaps so_ ," you replied. " _You don't need to answer if you don't want to, but I would like to know your name_."

        Maybe he thought you were kind, or just perhaps he was curious, but he replied, " _My name is Wilhelm Braun, fr_ _ä_ _ulein."_

There was no declaration of hometown, no mention of his station. But you knew that. Soldiers were prideful, sure, but mentioning that, even to you, would just be risky. He couldn't give anything away that could be used against him. You considered the past men you'd deceived in this way. Uncovering what mattered most to them and threatening that. You remembered, once, a man not too much older than you. He had taken days to crack, but on that final day, he confessed his love for you and pleaded with you to undo his bindings and run away with him.

        In the end, the General ended up getting the information he wanted by threatening your life. You were never in any real danger, but that man, so exhausted and emotionally confused and deluded, spilled everything in exchange for your life. 

        His feelings for you couldn't have been real. At least, that's what you told yourself.

        This man, you could tell, as prideful as he was, wouldn't be as difficult to get information out of. And that was just as well, since the longer you spent around them, the worse you felt in the end.

        " _I see. Thank you. Do you mind if I call you Wilhelm?"_ you asked.

        " _I do not mind,_ " he assured. " _But I ask for your name in exchange, fr_ _ä_ _ulein._ "

        And these were the moments that really stung. A necessary part of this process was being open, to a certain extent, with the prisoners, but you hated it. Something about divulging little nuggets of information about yourself just made the whole thing feel more real and the connection that much deeper. You didn't want to have any sort of attachment to these enemies, not even a surface level one.

        " _My name is [Name][L/N]. I am glad to meet you, even in circumstances such as these,_ " you replied. You finished cleaning the wounds on his face. So you moved onto smoothing a soothing cream on his face. It was said to speed up the healing process, but even if it didn't, you knew it made the wounds even a little less painful. He winced when you pressed your fingers against his skin, but it was so intimate, you didn't doubt that he took notice of that.

        " _I am surprised they sent a nurse in to help a prisoner,_ " Wilhelm said. " _Why_ _?_ "

        " _The better shape you're in, the more it will hurt,_ " you responded. " _I...don't wish to see anyone else hurt_."

        " _Then why do you do this?_ " Wilhelm asked.

        " _You have your orders. I have mine,_ " you said grimly. " _Truly, I never believed when I joined that I would be involved in something so inhumane, but I suppose that's just war. I guess I'm just too gentle for this sort of thing._ "

        " _It's good for a woman to be gentle_ ," Wilhelm replied. You sort of wanted to gag after he said that. You knew that was an attitude shared by most men, but that didn't mean you had to like it. It wasn't even so much that you were a gentle person, you could witness death and mutilation far better than most. It was just the manipulation that got to you, the development of a bond with someone you knew had faith in you.

        You did feel guilty, because you saw all kinds of enemy soldiers. And it was abundantly clear most of them had no idea what they were even involved in. A lot of them were just dumb children trying to serve their country, unaware of the truth, unaware that they were on the wrong side. Yeah, you felt bad about it. But never enough to stop, because if the information you gently clawed out of these men could save even one life. Then it would be worth it.

        You answered, " _So I've been told_ _._ "

        " _How old are you anyway? Shouldn't you be at home?_ " he asked. There was some sort of unspoken  _taking care of the kids_ there.

        " _24,_ " you replied. You were done applying the cream. Next, would be bandaging them. But those were just the wounds on the face, you still had a ways to go.  _"I'm not married. How about you? You can't be older than me_."

        " _19_ ," he answered. It must've come out unthinkingly, because he clamped his mouth shut. 

        " _19_ ," you repeated and shook your head. " _So young._ "

         _"Old enough to serve my country_ ," he replied.

        " _Yes, that's true_ ," you said, though you couldn't entirely agree with using the young to fight battles. " _You must really love your country to go to such an extent._ "

        " _Of course,_ " he answered. " _Don't you?_ "

        " _Of course. Sometimes on the harder days, I think about the beautiful fields of my hometown and it helps get me through it_ ," you said.

        " _I can relate. Thinking about Olfen is the only thing getting me through these beatings,_ " Wilhelm said. He didn't look as alarmed as the first time.

        " _Olfen, so that is where you're from?_ " you asked. " _Is it beautiful?_ "

        " _It's the best place in the world,_ " Wilhelm replied. His face was done. Next were his legs, which had, presumably, had glass bottles smashed over them. There were little shards of glass embedded in them and you had to get them out. You removed your tweezers from your kit and again shook your head at the brutality.

        " _This will hurt. Please forgive me_ ," you said. Then you began to pull on the individual pieces of glass. His breath hitched and you could hear him softly cry. You didn't judge him. You just slowly and methodically pulled out those glass shards. " _Just think of Olfen. Think of all your friends._ "

        " _My friends..._ " he trailed off deliriously. " _I hope they'll be alright._ "

        " _Why would they not be?_ " you asked. You were almost done.

        " _They were supposed to attack those forces hidden in Hungary_."

        And your hands froze. He knew about that? The enemy knew about that? It seemed Wilhelm understood his slip up and started to struggle wildly against his restraints. But it was too late. You backed up, quickly gathering up your supplies as the door burst open to reveal General Callahan and a few other various soldiers of different ranks. He would, of course, dig out more detailed information out of the enemy. So your work was done.

        Swallowing down the bile in your throat, you grabbed your first aid kit and rushed out the door. This was the part you were glad you weren't needed for. 

        "Good job, Nurse [Name]!" one of the soldiers jeered as you ran past. You wanted to say something, anything, in response, but you just felt sick. Incredibly sick. Once you were safe and secure in your quarters, you ripped your notepad out of your first aid kit and flipped to the most recent page and wrote a single name at the bottom, underneath all the other names already written.

         _Wilhelm Braun._

* * *

        In hindsight, it was bound to happen eventually. You were a threat, woman or not, and it was only a matter of time until someone took you out. But the absolute last thing you expected was it to be somebody you knew and trusted.

        It was kind of a dramatic irony, in a way. 

        You got those enemy soldiers to trust you and ruin them and you were ruined by somebody you trusted.

        You couldn't strictly say you liked General Callahan. He was a hardass and way too brutal, but he got the job done and you believed he always wanted to do the right thing. So when, one night, General Callahan asked you to join him outside for a private discussion, your alarm bells didn't start ringing.

        "Ah, [Name]," is what he said to you when you came outside. "Good to see you. We have something urgent to discuss."

        "Yes, of course, General Callahan," you replied. You still had your first aid kit, having come straight from bandaging up one of the soldiers that got a little too gung-ho during practice.

        "Walk with me," he said. He began walking away from the building before you even had an opportunity to say yes or no. You had no choice but to follow. "You know, [Name], I really didn't think that little trick would work so well when we first tried it out."

        "I admit I didn't either," you responded.

        "I'm sure the drugs don't hurt either," General Callahan seemed amused. "Still, what you're able to do is truly incredible. It must be that innocent face of yours."

        You got farther from the building.

        "I'm sure that plays a part," you answered.

        "Yes, well, you know, it seems as though the Allies are going to win this war," General Callahan said. You couldn't help but smile at that.

        "It's wonderful, isn't it?" you replied.

        "Yes, I'm sure under most circumstances it would be," he said.

        "General Callahan...?" you trailed off.

        Your reflexes had never been the best, but when General Callahan suddenly came at you, your body moved faster than ever before, shooting to the side. You felt white hot sparks of pain blossom from your side, but you didn't have enough time to see what he'd hit, or how bad the wound was.

        "That was pretty impressive," General Callahan said.

        "What are you doing?" you exclaimed. You put as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

        "See, [Name], I'm counting on the Germans to win this war. I need them to. But you just keep getting information and I can't let that happen," General Callahan explained.

        "Traitor," you hissed. It felt disgusting to say. Worse than anything else.

        "I didn't want to shoot you, it makes too much noise, but I guess there's no choice," he said.

        And that was when you ran. You were certain you heard a gunshot, but you didn't feel anything. No pain, no nothing. Maybe that's what death felt like. And you were pretty convinced of your death even more so when you opened your eyes and saw you stood in a long white hallway full of doors. In the center, sat a man holding a newspaper up to his face as he read. You looked around. Were these paths to different afterlives? You thought you deserved heaven, but then you thought of all the men you'd manipulated and suddenly you weren't entirely sure.

        The man set down his newspaper and you were able to get a good look at him. Blond hair parted to the side, glasses, large, somewhat creepy, blue eyes. Your voice caught in your throat.

        "Are you...are you an angel?" you asked.

        He didn't say anything, just looked down at his desk. You were too afraid to ask him anything else. You were distracted by the pain in your side. And that was when you realized you couldn't possibly be dead, because otherwise that wound wouldn't be hurting. It wouldn't be spilling blood onto those clean white floors. You glanced down at the slice in your side. It was hard to tell the severity, but you knew you needed to sew it up soon. Wash it, too.

        "Where am I?" you asked again. If you weren't dead, then this couldn't be an angel. So just where were you?

        The man made a gesture and you still couldn't understand what he wanted. But you soon realized when one of the many doors began sucking you in. It was too powerful to fight back against and you weren't willing to let go of your first aid kit to grab the side of the door, not when you needed it to suture your wound.

        The last thing you saw before the door rammed closed was those stupid ridiculous looking blue eyes gaze back at you.


	2. Chapter 2

        When you awoke, it was to searing pain in your side. You knew you couldn't have been out long, perhaps just a few seconds, but you landed on your bloodied side. And that wouldn't do, not when it was probably clogged with all kinds of dirt now. You had to hold back a whimper as you dragged your body up into a sitting position against a nearby tree. You didn't know where you were, or even how you got there, but what you did know was that the slice on your abdomen wasn't going to sew itself back together.

        Hitching a breath, you pulled your dress up. You had to hold back a cry when the fabric of your dress caught against it, but eventually, it gave way. You were grateful you had the foresight to hold onto your first aid kit. You first pulled out your rubbing alcohol. Thankfully, you still had some clean cotton to use, but what you were about to do to yourself wouldn't be fun.

        Washing the wound was excruciating, but since it was fresh, you didn't have to worry about bacteria. Just the dirt that clogged it. But even that wiped away, and then you were able to properly survey the damage. The slice was surprisingly deep, there was no doubt Callahan struck with the intent to kill. But you would live and it just grazed you. Didn't hit anything vital. Still, you had to suture it and wrap yourself with bandages.

        Anyone could tell you that stabbing yourself with a needle was far from fun. Doing multiple times was even less so. But it needed to be done and there was no one else around to do it for you. Still, you would admit to hesitating as you stared at the threaded needle in your hand. You just had to do it quick, but steady. That's all it would take.

        Easier said than done. 

        If dousing an open cut with alcohol was excruciating, then suturing your own wound was painful beyond description. You whimpered on the first stitch, but you didn't stop, because if you did, you would never start back up again. The second stitch was somehow better than the first, but the third was worse than all of them combined. By four you were ready to give up, and then five was the final and you were finally done. You made sure the thread was tied up nice and well and then the rest would be up to nature and a few bandages.

        You kept your bandages loose, since you didn't want to hurt yourself, but you really wished you had a few painkillers to spare right about then. You were certain you had some in your first aid kit, but the last thing you wanted to do was waste them prematurely.

        You made sure to be extra careful in standing up. The absolute last thing you wanted was to pop open your stitches and go through the whole adventure again. Walking was uncomfortable and painful, but you were still able to walk straight without much support. Occasionally you rested one of your hands on one of the trees to help with the burden, but that was about all you needed to do. You really didn't know what direction you were headed in or if it was the right way. Maybe, for some reason, General Callahan presumed you dead and dumped your body in some nearby forest?

        But then why would he have left your first aid kit? Well, maybe he was dumping that too. But the guy was a General, he had to know throwing your body in the forest would've been a pretty shit was to dispose of your body. You just didn't know. All you needed to do was find your way to civilization, There had to be some water nearby you could follow. 

        However, as you continued, you came across a boy in your path. It was so unexpected, you couldn't help but jolt. It was actually a little embarrassing, since it's not as though he snuck up on you or anything. The boy had short blonde hair and the longest ears you'd ever seen. Seriously, that must've been some anomaly or something!

        "Oh, um, hello. Do you think you could point me to the nearest town?" you asked in your best patient voice.

        The boy responded in a language you were certain you'd never heard before and pointed at your ears. A bit self-conscious, you covered one up with your hand. Seriously, you weren't even convinced that the language spoken by this boy was even something that existed. Just where did General Callahan leave you?

        Or perhaps...that strange dream hadn't been a dream after all.

        But that was ludicrous and preposterous. You shook off the thought. 

        The boy said something again. You could not, for the life of you, decipher any meaning, but you got the feeling he was trying to be polite and kind. He pointed at you and called you something. He was asking a question, it seemed.

        You tilted your head to the side in confusion and tried to repeat the words back. "Dru-Dru-if-tur? Wait, Dri-Drifter? Is that what you're saying?"

        The boy stared at you blankly. Well, just great. You needed to try something else. But before you could, the boy turned around and began walking in another direction. Had he lost interest? Then he looked behind him, right at you, and said something again. Did he want you to follow him? That's the only thing you could think of.

        You raced to catch up to him as best your could with your injury and then maintained a steady pace beside him. In spite of his childlike features, you weren't much taller than him. You weren't sure how to feel about that. He didn't attempt to speak to you any more, which you could understand considering the language barrier, but there was still something you wanted to know.

        When you were certain he was looking at you, you pointed at yourself and said, "[Name]."

        The boy stared at you blankly, so you repeated the action. After a moment, he pointed at you and said, "[Name]...druiftur."

        "Yes! Well, mostly," you chuckled. You pointed at him. "And you?"

        He pointed at himself and said, "Salm..." and then some words you didn't have any hope of understanding, presumably his race, since he seemed to think you were some sort of 'drifter'.

        "Salm," you repeated back. "I like it!"

        Even if you couldn't understand him, he was such a good, sweet boy. And he was helping you! After a while the trees began to thin out and you could see what appeared to be the ruins of a castle in the distance. This didn't seem like a town, but maybe there was something there Salm thought you needed. You took a step forward, but Salm didn't move from his spot. When you looked at him in question, he just frowned and jerked his head to the side. Perhaps that was his way of saying no.

        You looked back up to the castle ruins. What was it about this place? Why would Salm bring you here if he was too afraid to go near it? You weren't sure you wanted to know, but...

        Well, you didn't think Salm was going to lead you anywhere else and you didn't think he was going to follow you any time soon. He could've just been tricking you and leading you into a trap, but at the same time, you were at times of war. You didn't know what country Salm's people were aligned with, but it didn't matter. Either way, helping a stranger would be dangerous. Perhaps this was the best he could do without risking his life or the lives of his people. You could understand that.

        You patted his head and ruffled his soft blonde hair. He flinched at first, but once he realized you weren't going to hurt him, he relaxed under your touch. It didn't last more than a few seconds. Once you were done, Salm looked at you and then took off in the opposite direction. Well, if this castle turned out to be nothing, you could always turn around later. Shifting your shoulders, you began to walk towards it. The trees continued to thin out until there were scarcely any and instead there were just chunks of stone everywhere. 

        This place didn't seem very nice, but you were already there. And Salm had to bring you there for a reason, even if it was only to get you killed. There was a bit of an incline that led up to the actual castle (if you could even call it that in its dilapidated state). You weren't looking forward to hiking that with your stitches. 

        But maybe you wouldn't have to. Maybe you would die before you could reach the top. Because you felt the point of something brush the back of your head. You didn't know what it was, but it felt sharp. You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for impact, but there was nothing. So you were being threatened. Just great. 

        You dropped your first aid kit and held your hands up.

        The person threatening you side stepped around you until he stood in front of you. In his hands sat a bow and he had a sharp arrow pointed right between your eyebrows. A bow and arrow? When was the last time anyone used one of those? You felt sort of vaguely ill as you looked at the sharp point. If he just slipped his hand, that would kill you instantly.

        " _Who are you?_ " the man with the bow and arrow asked in Japanese. It was a dialect you'd never heard before, not even once. It wasn't difficult to understand, but different. Japanese...so Salm had been aligned with the opposite side after all. In a time like this, it was probably best to pretend you didn't understand his language.

        "Who are you?" you asked in English.

        The man blinked. Well, it seemed he understood just about as much English as Salm. The man scanned his eyes over your body and you would've been offended had you not been under the threat of death. After a long moment, the man lowered his bow and arrow and you couldn't help but sigh in relief. The man put the arrow back in his quill and shifted his bow over his shoulder. You made a move to put your hands down, but the man shot you a warning glance so you kept them up.

        He walked over to your first aid kit and unlatched it. Most of it was just medical supplies, like alcohol and bandages and some creams and a book on herbology. He glared at you when he noticed your medical scalpel and scissors, but what could you even say? He must not have found anything too damning, since he shut your first aid kit, picked it up, and gestured for you to come with him. What was he going to do? Torture you? Maybe it would've been better to respond in German or Italian so he would've thought you were an ally. Still, you couldn't very well run away either. Not when he still had your first aid kit and could easily shoot you down. 

        The two of you walked up the hill in silence. Your body screamed in protest, but you ever so kindly told it to shut the hell up. What felt like years to your body was actually closer to something like ten minutes. But finally, you reached the entrance to the castle. If you could even call it that. It was more like a fancy stone cave. The bow and arrow man clearly expected you to walk in first. There was nothing else you could do but go along with it. You didn't know what else you expected to see in there, but it certainly wasn't an older Japanese man leaned up against a wall with a ripped strip of fabric strung up behind him with the symbol for the 'Oda' Clan on it. 

        In Japanese, the older man asked, " _Who is this?_ "

        Bow and arrow man replied, " _She didn't say. I don't think she can speak Japanese._ "

        " _Still, good job bringing back a woman for a change!_ " the older man said. You had to control yourself from snapping at the old man. In moments like this, it was best to just keep quiet and listen.

        " _Lewd old man_ ," bow and arrow man said. " _Her box has medical supplies. I believe she may be a doctor._ "

        " _A woman?_ " the older man scoffed. As much as it pissed you off, he had a point. There were female doctors out there, but it wasn't exactly encouraged for women to attempt that career path. Or any career, for that matter.

        " _It seems so_ ," bow and arrow man replied.

        " _It would be a good idea to keep her around in that case_ ," the older man said. " _As long as she behaves, that is_."

        You resisted the urge to gag. Old pervert. But more importantly, they wanted to use you for your medical skills? If they thought for one second you were going to betray your country to help them, there were deluded. 

        " _We need to figure something out about the language barrier_ ," bow and arrow man said. 

        " _She doesn't speak that elf language?_ " the older man said. Elf...? Did you just mishear that?

        " _I don't know, I haven't tried_ ," bow and arrow man replied. He looked at you and spoke in that same gibberish Salm did. That time you didn't have to pretend misunderstanding. " _It doesn't seem so_."

        " _Well, I guess we don't really need her to understand. Just show her a wound and she should get the idea_ ," the older man said. You really wanted to glare at him. You didn't like how dismissive he was being. You got the feeling he would be speaking the exact same way if he knew you could understand, too, which just made it worse. 

        You resolved yourself by glaring at a wall. You really didn't want to be in this situation. Not with these people. Bow and arrow man nudged you more into the room. Maybe that was his room of telling you to get comfortable, but you didn't feel anything more than frustration. Still, it would be better than staying outside and you did need to rest what with the wound in your side. You walked inside the pathetic little hovel of a castle and sat against the wall you had been glaring at only seconds earlier. 

        For the time being, it seemed you were stuck with these people. You could possibly sneak away when they went to sleep, that was if they ever even let their guard down. You wouldn't be surprised if they took turns sleeping or they were incredibly light sleepers. 

        But one thing was for certain. You weren't going to stay with these men any longer than necessary, but you still wanted their names.

        The best place to start would be introducing yourself first. 

        "Hey," you said. Both men looked at you and for a moment you felt very self-conscious. You pointed at yourself and said, "[Name]."

        The two men exchanged glances. There was some recognition on their faces, so they had to know what you were getting at. 

        Bow and arrow man said, " _Yoichi_."

He must not have seen you as much of a threat if he was willing to give you his name, even just his given name. 

        The older man said, " _Nobunaga_."

        Your eyes flit to the clan symbol for 'Oda' behind his head. Your knowledge of Japanese history was pathetic at best, but you'd still heard of Oda Nobunaga. He had been some sort of powerful Japanese daimyo, or something like that. But that would've been hundreds of years before. So maybe the Oda Clan just reused the name for that old man. Nobunaga grinned when he saw where you looked.

        " _I guess she recognizes me_ ," Nobunaga said. Him? No. You recognized the name of a long dead daimyo. 

        " _I don't think so_ ," Yoichi replied. 

        At this rate, they would probably be pretty pissed if they ever found out you could speak Japanese.

        " _Oi, Yoichi, go catch something to eat. I'm starving_ ," Nobunaga said.

        " _Just keep an eye on her while I'm gone_ ," Yoichi replied.

        " _What's she gonna do? Look at her hands, she's never held a weapon in her life_ ," Nobunaga said.

        " _Just keep an eye on her_ ," Yoichi said. And then he disappeared out into the night. You weren't exactly thrilled to be left alone with Nobunaga. Yoichi had threatened your life, sure, but at least he didn't seem to be a pervert. You kept a close eye on the old man for as long as you could, but he didn't seem to be doing anything and you were tired. Having dealt with so much in one night and the added trauma of coming so close to death twice in one night, well, your eyes slipped. 

        It would've been smarter to stay awake, but you weren't in any immediate danger. As the men said, they intended to use you for your medical skill. If they wanted you dead, they would've killed you already. You closed your eyes and convinced yourself that being well rested would be better in the long run. As you hit the edge of sleep, you could've sworn you felt something warm and soft drape over you. But you probably just imagined that.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was longer, but I think it was better left off here for the moment. There was a lot more that I would've had to add and I honestly feel like it would've made this chapter drag on a lot more than necessary, so I'll save that little section for the next chapter. There's a LOT that's going to have to happen in the next chapter (i.e. explanations for what's going on), but after that the real fun should begin. Also, the reason I'm putting Nobunaga and Yoichi's speech in italics is to show that they're speaking in Japanese. Once Olminu joins in, that'll stop because of her little magic papers.

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI, reader IS from the WWII period, acting as a nurse and shit. Also, no, I'm not trying to suggest that interrogating would be that easy or believable, just suspend your belief. Wilhelm was just a special case, and I also want to point out that in the 1940s, everything was EXTREMELY sexist, so people would be more likely to put their guards down around a woman. Today, that wouldn't happen, but back then? I doubt many men would've viewed women as a viable threat which is why reader's shtick was able to work. Of course I doubt it would ever go that smoothly in the real world, but this takes place in an anime where animu versions of historical figures get sent to a fantasy world. You'll just have to get over it.


End file.
